


Poisoned

by Etagirl



Category: Dishonored (Video Games)
Genre: Betrayal, Canon Compliant, Canon Rewrite, Extended Scene, Hurt No Comfort, Low Chaos (Dishonored), Mute Corvo Attano, Poisoning, Selectively Mute Corvo, Spoilers, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-12
Updated: 2021-01-12
Packaged: 2021-03-16 13:28:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,943
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28707405
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Etagirl/pseuds/Etagirl
Summary: Apologies for the uncreative title lol. Basically I just felt like putting into words/elaborating on the part of the game at the end where the Loyalists betray Corvo and poison him. It's short, but hopefully you enjoy it! Taking a little break from BNHA, I've been playing Dishonored and this is my first Dishonored fanfic! I may or may not crosspost this on Fanfiction.net, I haven't decided yet. I also elaborated a little bit on the other Loyalists' relationships with Corvo, or at least how I imagine them. I tried to stay as close to canon as possible, and even included direct quotes from the game. Also, this is based on a low chaos playthrough, although it might not be too obvious. I imagine Corvo as being rather introverted and quiet, pragmatic and willing to get his hands dirty, especially if it means getting revenge on those who wronged him, but still retaining some morals and compassion and abiding by an internal code of honor. If you like this, please leave a comment and kudos! I live for comments and kudos lol, and they help motivate me to write more fanfics!
Kudos: 5





	Poisoned

Corvo gripped his head. The room seemed to spin, and he felt somewhat nauseous. Too many drinks? But he didn’t think he’d had that many, and besides he was from Serkonos. He could outdrink most anyone from Gristol any day. Even so, what other explanation could there be? Corvo could think of one other explanation but the thought of it sent a chill down his spine. No, it can’t be. He must be tired. That’s all. A combination of exhaustion and too many drinks. He would get some rest.

“Sleep well Corvo, you’ve earned it,” Pendleton called as Corvo stumbled up the stairs to his bedroom.

He was grateful they let him sleep in the attic. It was a bit dusty and crowded with boxes and other things the Loyalists had stored away, but it was also quiet and somewhat separated from the rest. Corvo liked it that way. Plus, the window to the attic was connected directly to Emily’s room, so he could visit her and she could visit him anytime they wanted.

Right now, however, Corvo was wishing his bedroom was closer. Once he reached the second floor, he accidentally stumbled into Pendleton’s room. Crap, wrong floor. That was when Corvo noticed his audiograph just sitting there, and curiosity got the better of him. He pressed the play button and listened.

“This was never my idea. He knows that.”

Huh? What idea? Who was Pendleton talking about?

The audiograph continued, “Certainly I am not completely guiltless, but with my position he would be a fool to come for me.”

It sounded like Pendleton was worried someone might come after him for some reason, for some transgression.

“And if he does, I have much to offer. Extensive business opportunities. So he’ll see reason, if it comes to that.” The audiograph ended.

That was weird, Corvo thought. Who was Pendleton talking about? Why did he sound paranoid that somebody would try to assassinate him? Corvo got the nagging feeling Pendleton was referring to him. He saw how Pendleton, and all the Loyalists, regarded him with wary glances. All but Samuel and Piero, perhaps. Samuel trusted Corvo completely, and Piero was too often off in his own little world to think about what potential danger there may be in having a convict with supernatural powers around. Assuming anybody even knew about his Outsider-given powers. Martin seemed to hint at it when he casually mentioned the mark on the back of Corvo’s hand the other day.

Besides Samuel and Piero, Callista was the only other person that seemed to really trust Corvo. Like the others she was suspicious at first, but she quickly warmed up to him especially after Emily arrived. Emily trusted him completely too, of course. Lydia and Cecelia kept their distance and occasionally shot him apprehensive looks, but for the most part respected him and appeared to warm up to him as well. Cecilia had even given him a key to an abandoned apartment across the street should worst come to worst and the Overseers kick down their door. Wallace looked down on Corvo as both a foreigner and low-born, but nonetheless treated him with begrudging respect as he was the empress’s royal protector and could probably kill him if he wanted to.

That just left the leaders of the Loyalists, Martin, Pendleton, and Havelock. What  **did** they think of him? As far as Corvo knew they respected him, and seemed to act fairly friendly towards him. Yet they, too, regarded him with suspicion, perhaps even more so than the rest. After all, they knew best what he was capable of and had only managed to remain hidden for so long because of their overly-cautious natures. He knew Martin wasn’t too fond of him, specifically because of his mark but also because he probably thought of Corvo as not being a very pious individual in general. Corvo made no secret of hating the Abbey. Pendleton and Havelock seemed mostly nervous around Corvo. In fact, Havelock had even mentioned once in his journal (which Corvo may or may not have peeked at several times) that he was concerned about Corvo’s skills and what he could do.

Corvo supposed it was no surprise that they all somewhat feared him. He was, after all, the “Masked Felon”. He didn’t exactly endear himself to the others, either, he mostly kept to himself and he didn’t speak much. He realized, too, that he had a somewhat imposing demeanor especially with that skull mask. Even so, it stung a little bit to know how little they trusted him. As though he were a rabid dog, an animal that had to be kept on a tight leash. Corvo started to feel sick again. Sleep. That was what he needed.

At last Corvo stumbled into his bedroom on the top floor, but before he could reach his bed his knees buckled and he collapsed to the floor. The room carouseled around him, and Corvo felt like he would be sick. Something was wrong. Even when he had gotten blind drunk on the eve of his departure from Karnaca, he never felt this bad. Poison. The drink was poisoned. How could he be so foolish? The world went black.

* * *

Corvo awoke to the sound of muffled voices and the uncomfortable sensation that he was lying on a hard, flat surface. He wrenched open his eyes and saw three, no- four figures standing around him. Everything was blurry, and he felt like he was underwater. His stomach hurt. His body was numb. Try as he might all he could move was his head.

“Samuel, you move like you’ve been drinking!” a familiar voice chastised.

Corvo knew that voice. It belonged to Pendleton.

“Did the poison work its magic? Is he dead?” the nobleman continued. “It better have worked. It cost me a month’s profit.”

None of the men seemed to notice that Corvo was awake. Cowards. Traitors. They had poisoned him. Corvo seethed with anger, and wished that he could move so he could sink his dagger into each of their back-stabbing chests.

“Yes sir. I believe Corvo has breathed his last,” Samuel motioned down towards Corvo. “Just as you wanted.”

There was a strange glint in the old sailor’s eye.

“You’ve done a fine job,” Martin spoke from somewhere off to the side, outside of Corvo’s peripheral vision. “Remember, we  **need** the body. If we come forward with the corpse of the man who murdered the empress, we’ll be greeted as heroes.”

They wanted to hand his body over to the guard? Had this been their plan all along? Use him to dispose of their enemies, of the others in their way, then swoop in and take all the credit?

Havelock stood with his arms crossed, “Yes, it’ll grant us legitimacy. We’ll be the men who rescued Emily and brought down the Lord Regent. And, his assassin.”

And what about all that talk of pardoning Corvo, of finding Daud, the true man responsible for the assassination of the empress? Of his beloved Jessamine? Had it all been a lie? How was it that these men could so boldly stare into his eyes, the same eyes which had seen the deaths of so many corrupt people, and lie with straight faces? No, worse than that. They didn’t lie with straight faces. They lied with smiles. With jovial greetings and false praises. Corvo struggled to move. To do anything. But his body wouldn’t comply.

Havelock turned towards Samuel, “You’ll see to the body, won’t you Samuel?”

“Yes sir.”

Corvo felt his eyelids grow heavy. No, this couldn’t be the end! Not like this! Who was going to protect Emily? Look after her and guide her? But once again his body would not comply, and Corvo’s vision faded. Sometime later (minutes? hours?) Corvo’s eyes opened again, much to his surprise. He was still in the attic. Havelock, Martin, and Pendleton were gone.

Samuel knelt beside him, “I’m sorry something terrible, Corvo. But I only gave you half the poison. They were watching me and it was all I could think to do! I think you’re strong enough to survive that. I’m putting you on a raft, and then I gotta ship out myself, before they find out I’ve gone against their wishes. Snakes. They’ll wanna do the same to me as soon as I’ve outlived my uses. Hopefully you’ll wake up and find your way out of this cursed city.”

Everything went black.

* * *

The next time Corvo awoke, he was lying on his back in a boat, drifting past dilapidated tall buildings. Was he dreaming? Or… dead? Where was he? Corvo tried to move his arm and found that it responded a little bit. Everything was a bit clearer too, less blurry and less muffled. He had to be alive then. The poison was wearing off. Samuel kept his word. Suddenly two men wearing gas masks appeared in front of him. Had Corvo not been numbed by the poison, he would have jumped out of his skin. What the hell? Did these guys have the same ability as him? But how? Or was this just a hallucination brought on by the poison?

One of the masked men spoke, “This was the one who was with the empress when she died.”

The same man knelt down, placing a hand on Corvo’s chest.

“Poisoned. Tyvian.”

The other masked man responded, “Amateur work. He’ll live.”

“That’s up to Daud.”

Daud. Where had he heard that name before? It sounded so familiar… Corvo fainted again. He woke up a few more times, but always fell back into unconsciousness. He felt the boat moving, saw the two masked men bringing him somewhere. He felt them lift up his listless body onto some kind of elevator. Finally he felt the elevator move, going somewhere. Then he saw him, the man in red. The empress’s assassin. Daud.

“I know a great deal, bodyguard. I recognize the mark on your hand. The gift from your friend, the one who talks to you in the dark. Talks to you when you visit his shrines. I’ve visited those shrines, too.”

Daud opened a small briefcase containing Corvo’s belongings. He lifted the folding blade from it and examined it curiously, before folding it back up again and putting it away.

“And I know what it felt like to shove a blade into your empress.”

Corvo’s heart leapt in his throat. That bastard. The one responsible for all this. The one who took the love of his life, and his daughter’s mother, away. Corvo struggled to break free, to kill Daud. But the restraints on him and the cage made it impossible.

Daud continued monologuing, “But I don’t know you. Who you are, and who you fight for. You’re a mystery. And I can’t allow that.”

Daud tossed the briefcase into a pit, and Corvo could hear a faint splashing sound from below. Despite know it was futile, Corvo instinctively reached out with his chained hand. Daud nodded to one of the masked men, his lackeys, beside him. With a sharp “thwack!” the man rendered Corvo once again unconscious. The last thing Corvo felt was a sharp pressure and pain blossoming at the back of his head, rattling his skull, then fading into a dull ache and nothingness.

The last time Corvo awoke, he was lying in a wet, shallow pit with a bunch of rats. One of Daud’s henchmen stood above him, swinging closed a makeshift wooden door. Several bricks lay at Corvo’s feet, and he also spied a small hole just big enough for a rat to fit through. Time to spring into action.


End file.
